During the Rooted in Nature exhibition, I ran two small, intimate workshops focused on observing nature through different lenses. The first workshop explored trees from a distance — their shapes, rhythm, and presence in the landscape. The second shifted to a close-up study of eucalypt blooms, celebrating detail, texture, and colour.
Working with texture paste and acrylic, we built layered, expressive surfaces full of energy. I keep my groups small to allow for a more personal approach, and although everyone followed the same process, each artwork turned out completely different.
There is something truly magical about creating inside an exhibition space. Being surrounded by artworks and artists in the act of making seems to boost creativity and confidence — the energy is contagious. Both groups did an incredible job, and I’m genuinely proud of the results and the courage they brought to their work.
My journey with oil painting began in year 7, when I was studying at the State Secondary Art School in Kyiv, Ukraine — a highly selective school that required passing three entrance exams in painting, drawing, and composition. It was there that we transitioned from watercolours and gouache to the timeless medium of oils. I’ve always loved this classical medium. Oils have a long and rich tradition in fine art, and I’ve admired their depth, luminosity, and the way colours blend so seamlessly on the canvas. Working with oils teaches patience and reflection — they dry slowly, giving time to build layers with care and intention. I feel incredibly fortunate to have received proper academic training in the classical use of oils, alongside in-depth knowledge of anatomy, linear perspective, perception principles, and art history. That foundation continues to shape how I see and create today, allowing me to appreciate not only the technique but also the discipline and history behind every brushstroke.
From time to time, someone commissions a portrait not simply as an artwork, but as a way to preserve a presence — a face, a character, a moment in life meant to last beyond the present. Portraits hold a unique place in art because they are created with the future in mind, becoming part of a family’s visual history. When I work on a portrait, my focus goes beyond likeness. I look for what makes a person recognisable to those who love them — a certain expression, a posture, a quiet strength or warmth that speaks of who they are. These details are often subtle, but they are what transform a portrait into something deeply personal. Commissioned portraits are often created to mark important moments: a milestone, a legacy, or a tribute. Over time, they become witnesses to family stories, passed from one generation to the next, carrying memory, identity, and connection. For me, creating a portrait is a shared process built on trust and attentiveness. It is about honouring the individual and creating a work that will continue to speak long after the sitting has ended — a lasting memory, held in paint.
